


The Good Kids

by walkingparadise



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: F/F, M/M, Violence, contemporary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-26 23:18:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7594306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkingparadise/pseuds/walkingparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donovan gets caught in a fight after learning a new secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Watched The Models

**Author's Note:**

> Please check trigger warnings in the beginning notes before reading.  
> [TW- Graphic Violence. Blood. Death Mention. Language.]
> 
> [Can't Run Forever - Hembree](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOedqXwRSjo)

A fight was going on down the hall. There were always two guys wanting to show off who was stronger, but they were almost always broken up before they could declare a winner. It was clear who was going to win, though.  


Donovan didn't bother to join the crowd over the boys. Fist fights happened so often in the school that it was normal; kids would walk past as if it were nothing. _There goes Tom and Jerry again, as usual._ Donovan had been in a few fights himself. Once, a kid accused him of flirting with his girlfriend, though that wasn’t the case. They ended up punching it out behind the boy’s locker room. He was never a fan of these fights, but he wanted to impress Joey and Caroline and Nadine. That was the only thing that mattered.  


He walked down the school hall, heading to the back door where he met Nadine every morning. The halls were empty early in the morning, save for the few students whose parents dropped them off too soon. Donovan’s parents never dropped him off at school, not even when he was in the first grade. He would take the school bus every morning instead, though he wished his parents cared enough to take him to school. In this neighborhood, the kids that were dropped off were the kids that were safe, or as safe as they could be. They didn't have to worry about dodging eye contact with everyone they walked past, didn't have to worry about getting in those fist fights that everyone eventually got into, including the girls. These kids were good kids, the kids that went far in life. Donovan could only ever admire them from a distance, careful not to get too close and ruin the special aura they had.  


It was raining outside, so he stood at the doors where Nadine would arrive. He thought about a conversation he had been eavesdropping on in the bus from two girls who sat in front of him. They were talking about yet another fight that was expected to happen after school, betting on who would win.  


_Roger’s going to pound that new guy; did you see how skinny he was?  
_

_The new kid may be thin, but I heard he was trying out for the school wrestling team. We’ll see how that turns out._  


_Maybe he’ll be the first kid to put Roger in his place._  


_That asshole._

“Hey.” Nadine slaps his arm, waking him out of his daydream. “What’s wrong?”  


“Nothing. I heard Roger was picking fights with a new kid.”  


“Typical.”  


They head down the hall together, trying to ignore the screaming coming from the other kids. The school halls were flooding now; there was no room to walk.  


“Any news with Caroline?” Donovan asks. He scanned the hall, refusing to look Nadine in the eye. That’s the way it was around here. Nobody looked at each other; they were always too busy watching out for themselves. The only person Don knew who looked people in the eye was Nadine. She was never afraid of getting hurt and maybe that’s why he loved her so much.  


“We meet for five seconds and you’re already prying into my date with Carol?”  


Don shrugs. “Can you blame me?”  


“I guess not. It was amazing, by the way. It was late, so we just stayed at her house and had dinner.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, picking at a loose thread.  


“That’s all? C’mon, I’d expect something a little more exciting than that,” Don pushed.  


“What did you want us to do? Her parents were in the next room and I’m bent on making a good impression.”  


——  


Don had work right after school. It was fast-food, but what other jobs can people get in this town? He walked past the school buses and the cars holding the brilliant kids. He kept his head down as he walked, only looking up once he reached Burger King. He sighed when he looked at the busy floor. _Another day._  


Joey was in the back, putting together a messy burger when Don joined him.  


“Did you hear, Roger’s toughing it out with the new kid right as we speak.”  


“His name is Robin, and he’s not as small as people say he is. I bet he could take you down,” Joey jokes and Don punches him in the arm.  


“Hey, if he can take me down, then he can definitely take you down.” Don fixes another burger. “So, did you meet this kid—Robin?”  


“He’s in my first period. And a smartass; I’d bet on him kicking the shit out of Roger. What do you think?”  


Don shrugs. “I don’t know him well enough. Guess we’ll see tomorrow morning.”  


After his shift, Don walks to the liquor store to buy a pack of smokes. He wasn’t old enough to legally buy any, but he knew the employee, Todd. They go way back to elementary school and stuck out for each other whenever they could.  


“You smell like shit.” Todd slapps a pack of Camels on the cold glass counter.  


“Perks of flipping burgers,” Don replies in a cheerful tone. He slides a couple bucks on the counter and grabs the cigarettes. “Thanks, Todd.”  


Don stands outside of the store and watches a tall man with a bloody nose enter. He lights his cigarette and looks at the night sky. It was getting chilly, but Don wasn’t ready to go home, yet; he never wanted to go home.  


“Come on, man, it’s just one dollar. Just let me have it.” A rough voice came from inside the store.  


“Sorry, rules are rules.” Todd’s familiar voice retorts. Don looks back into the bright liquor store and finds the tall man arguing with him.  


“How ‘bout I get it to you tomorrow? I really need this.” The man’s voice booms against the still night, but it doesn’t seem to disrupt the silence.  


“Hey, Todd. I’ve got him.” Don hands a dollar to his friend. He takes a drag and heads back out of the store, breathing out smoke as he leaves.  


“Thanks, man.” The tall man opens the energy drink can and takes a sip.  


“It’s no big deal.” Don takes another drag and gets a good look at the man for the first time. His pale skin is illuminated by the neon lights from the liquor store and his eyes seem to change color as the lights change color. His black hair is cut short, like a military cut, and his loose t-shirt blows with the wind.  


“I’m Robin.” He holds out his large hand, which Don stares at curiously.  


“Donovan.” Don takes his hand and shakes it once. “How did it go? I can’t tell.”  


“I’m sorry?”  


Donovan blows out smoke and taps on his nose. “Your nose. You’re the new kid, right? The one who got mixed up with Roger? How’d the fight go?”  


“I’d say I won.” Robin downs the rest of his drink and tosses the can into a trash bin.  


“Would you say you won or did you win?” Don asks, skeptically. He taps his cigarette, watching the ashes fall off.  


Robin smiles. “It’s the first fight I’ve been in.”  


“Lucky you.”  


“How about you?”  


Don reaches the end of the smoke and tosses it in the trash. “Only twice. Some guy thought I was flirting with his girl and kicked my ass.”  


Robin laughs. “And the other?”  


“I got revenge. It was bad; he was sent to the hospital.” Don gives a thin-lipped smile.  


Robin returns with a smile of his own. “I’ll see you around, Donovan.”  


——  


Donovan watched Robin park his car along the empty curb behind the school. Don stood there waiting for Nadine, but caught Robin’s eye instead before looking away.  


“What are you doing out here?” Robin blows hot air into his hands and rubs them together, trying to generate heat. Don watches the young man thoughtfully.  


“Waiting for a friend. How’s your nose? It looks broken.”  


Robin turns toward Don, facing him directly. “Does it really? I can’t be known for getting into a fight on the first day of school,” he says worriedly, touching his nose delicately.  


Don smiles gently. “Don’t worry, everybody goes through that.”  


“I don’t know why I’m even here. At my last school, a fight would mean the end of the world.”  


“Really?” So Robin’s one of those kids—the kind that Don wouldn’t allow himself to talk to in a million years, afraid he might stain their innocence. He knows he should stay far away from Robin, but he can’t help wondering what Robin thought of guys like him.  


“Nadine, Caroline, this is Robin. Robin, Nadine and Caroline,” Don introduces the girls once they arrive arm in arm. They greet each other as if they’ve known each other for years; Don admires that about him, the way he can speak so swiftly to strangers.  


“You should sit with us at lunch. We’ll be out here behind the school buildings,” Don offers, silently hoping Robin will join them.  


——  


The lunch bell rings and students rush out of their classrooms—out of the stale, unholy air which held them captive for hours. Don rushed out of the classroom as well, anticipating Robin’s appearance. He didn’t know why, but Robin was intriguing. Maybe it was because Robin was one of the good kids or maybe it was because of his untimely background. Whichever it was, Don didn’t care; he just wanted to know who Robin was.  


“What did I tell you? That Robin guy won last night.” Joey sits on the floor, leaning his back against the building.  


“I met him—asked him to join us at lunch. Have you seen him?” Don watches the doors of the building open and holds his breath, but sighs when Caroline appears with her arm around Nadine’s shoulders.  


“You guys seen Robin?” Don asks them as they settle down next to each other.  


“Not since this morning,” Nadine pipes up.  


“What your deal with him anyway?” Caroline asks. “You haven’t shut up about him since you met him.”  


Don shrugs and sits next to Joey. “I don’t know. He’s special somehow. He used to go to some fancy private school.” He lights a cigarette and takes a drag before handing it to Joey. “You guys want to go to the photography museum that just opened up?”  


“No, Caroline’s parents are out all day, so we’re heading over to her place to hang out.”  


“You two are fucking adorable,” Joey jokes with a wide smile. “Sorry, Donny. I’ve got a shift after class.” Just then Robin swings open the door and scans the empty ground before spotting the group. He lightly jogs over and collapses next to Don.  


“How about you, Robin? Want to go to the photography museum after school?” Don takes back the cigarette and inhales the smoke.  


“Yeah, let’s do it.”  


——  


Donovan leaned against the brick walls of the photography museum, waiting for Robin to arrive. People shuffled in and out of the gallery; it was busy. Don was excited; there were never any museums in this part of town, only fast-food restaurants and old, rickety houses.  


He checked his phone; it’s been half an hour since school got out. _What’s taking so long?_ He sighs and walks along the alley way, pacing the building. The sky above is murky, as if it will rain at any second. Despite the weather, Don only has a thin t-shirt on, not caring about the cold wind.  


From where he paces, Don hears mumbles and moans coming just around the corner. He smiles to himself, wondering if he knew whoever was getting off in the back of the photography museum building. He slides up against the wall and peeks around the corner, hoping to get a glimpse of the action. Donovan freezes once he spots the two teenagers; it’s Roger and some guy Don’s never seen before.  


“Fuck, Patrick,” Roger moans into the other boy’s mouth. Don quickly tries to turn back around the corner, but not before Patrick spots him.  


“Fuck, Roger!” he screams in a less lovestruck tone. Don freezes where he’s at, shocked and unable to run away. Roger snaps toward Don with a panicked expression that quickly turns into anger.  


“Donovan!” Roger charges at him with his arms outstretched. Don gets a good look at Roger’s bruised face for the first time; Robin must’ve really done some damage. Before Roger can reach him, Don gains control over his limbs and runs out of the alley, almost running into Robin on the way.  


“Donovan, what the—”  


“Let’s go.” Don grabs Robin’s hand and leads him into the museum. He looks back to find Roger, but he’s nowhere to be found.  


“What was that about?” Robin asks once Don settles down. They stand alone, still holding hands without realizing, in one of the rooms as Don gathers his breath, trying to understand what he saw.  


“Nothing, I thought I saw something. I need a smoke.” Don pats his pockets, feeling for his pack.  


“You can’t smoke in here. Let’s go outside.” Robin brings him outside, hoping he’ll calm down a little more.  


“He’s going to fucking kill me. I’m dead, I’m dead,” Don mumbles to himself, feeling defeated. He lights a smoke and inhales deeply.  


The two boys walk down the sidewalk, heading anywhere away from the back of the photography museum building. Don smokes the end of the cigarette and lights another one, not uttering a single word to Robin.  


They end up in front of Robin’s large house, the kind that Don would only dream of owning.  


“Is this your place?” Don reaches the end of his second stick and throws it on the ground.  


“Yes, come inside.”  


Once Robin opens the front door, Don loses his breath, trying to take in every inch of the house. It was gorgeous, with flawless white walls and shining marble floors. The house was an art gallery in itself.  


“Your house is beautiful,” Don whispers, breathless. Rogers smiles to himself and shakes his head, laughing silently at Don. He leads Don up to his room and shuts the door behind him.  


“My parents won’t be home for another hour or two,” Roger explains. Don sits on Roger’s neatly made bed, already feeling at home.  


“So what the fuck happened back there?” Roger leans on his desk and looks at Don straight in the eye the way nobody in this neighborhood did.  


“I saw Roger kissing this guy—Patrick, I think—and he caught me, almost kicked my ass.”  


“Kissing him? Was there tongue?” Robin jokes. His smile is warm and not judgemental at all.  


Don smiles himself, playing along. “Yes, I believe there was. It was fucking hot, Robin, you should’ve seen it.” He laughs loudly. “But, all jokes aside, he’s going to track me down and make sure I don’t say a word.”  


“You make it sound like the end of the world. What’s so bad about that anyway?” He folds his arms across his chest.  


“Well, for one, I'd rather not have my face bashed in.”  


Robin’s eyes cut away, as if embarrassed for looking at Don for a second too long. “No, I meant what was so bad about him and Patrick?”  


“Roger has a girlfriend, and I don't imagine he'd want word of him and another boy getting around, if you know what I mean,” Don laughs nervously, trying to ease off the subject.  


“No, I don't think I do,” Robin persists. He was trying to point something out, though Don didn’t know what.  


He doesn’t reply and the room grows silent for a few short seconds before Robin laughs softly. “I’m sorry, I’m a terrible host. Did you want something to drink? Water?”  


“Maybe something a little stronger to help me take my mind off of Roger and his fist,” Don jokes.  


——  


“Come here, fucker!” Roger’s husky voice booms in the school halls. Don stands at the back door, staring straight at Roger as his large footsteps travel quicker and quicker toward him. He knows Roger won’t attack him in front of all the students, it would mean telling everyone why he was after Don.  


Roger grabs his arm and pushes him face first past the doors and into the fresh air where Don can see Robin parking his car across the street. He’s lead to the corner of the building, out of hearing range of everyone else, but certainly not out of sight.  


“And good day to you, Roger.” Don gives a cheeky smile, knowing he holds power over Roger now. “Tell me: how is Patrick—”  


Before he can finish his sentence, he’s struck on the eye, causing him to fall to the blacktop. His vision left him for just a second, leaving nothing but black nothingness.  


“Roger!” Another rough voice breaks the still morning and Robin places himself between Don and Roger. “You need to go,” he says in a quiet, reserved tone. He reminds Don of a wolf protecting its pack.  


Roger leans in and pushes against Robin, but he doesn’t budge. “I’ll wait until your bodyguard leaves,” Roger barks.  


Robin doesn’t move until Roger disappears into the building. The crowd gathered around the boys dissipated and the boys were left with nothing but the lingering adrenaline from before.  


“I can take care of myself,” Don grunts, not bothering to get off the floor. He pokes around his eye, feeling it throb on his face.  


Robin turns to face him. “I’m just trying to look out for you.” He offers a hand, but Don just stares at it. He takes note of Robin’s long, thin fingers and the way his thumb arcs and hangs loosely, how easy it would be to take his hand. “How’s your eye?”  


“I’ll be fine.”  


“Jesus, Don, what the fuck happened?” Nadine comes up beside Robin and grabs Don’s arm, pulling him to his feet.  


“Got caught in Roger’s way.” He continues to stare at Robin’s hand expressionless. “I’m going to lay down at home. See you two later.”  


“I’ll come with you.” Robin begins to follow him out the school gates, but Don pushes him back.  


“I don’t need you, Robin.” Don watches his chest rise and fall with each breath, not willing to look directly at him. “I’ll see you after school.”  


After school, Don waits behind the photography museum building. He counts the seconds that pass and imagines what’s about to happen, what he’s getting himself into. He wills himself to leave and avoid Roger, but he couldn’t after what happened with Robin in the morning. This is why Don doesn’t talk to the good kids; they’re all heroes.  


“How’d you know to come here?” Roger calls out from the corner. He makes his way toward Don like predator hunting prey.  


“My body just took me here.”  


Roger stopped just inches away from Don, willing him to make the first move. Though, Don wasn’t going to give in that easily.  


“You’re a bit too close for comfort,” he jokes.  


He begins to laugh, but is cut off when Roger shoves him against the wall. He’s pulled back off the wall by his shirt and thrown onto the floor.  


“Ass,” Don mumbles before getting back on his feet. He casually wipes the gravel on his palms off.  


Before Roger has any time to react, Don throws his fist out, punching him on the throat. He throws a few more punches at Roger’s face before he learns to duck.  


Roger tackles him to the ground and punches back, grunting with each punch. He wrinkles Don’s shirt in his left fist and punches him in the face with his right fist. Don reaches out and claws at the other boy’s face, scratching his jaw. He grabs Roger’s throat and squeezes as hard as he can with his two thumbs, crushing his windpipe.  


Roger jumps off him and begins coughing loudly, though nobody but the two of them can hear him. Don hops on his feet and pushes Roger against the wall, throwing punch after punch into his abdomen. He brings his fist up, connecting with the bottom of Roger’s jaw. The larger boy’s head snaps back and his head slams against the wall.  


Don can see a trickle of blood coming from the back of the boy’s head and freezes for just a second. Without missing a beat, Roger takes advantage of Don and kicks in between his legs. Don immediately goes down crying as he clutches his crotch. Roger gets on top of the wailing boy and throws punches left and right until his knuckles bloody up with Don’s and his own blood.  


Don tries to shield his head with his arms, but there’s no use in trying to stop the bullets coming at his face. Tears and blood cloud his vision. Now, Roger’s just a blur on top of him.  


Before Roger can do anymore damage, Don lunges forward and pushes him to the side, causing him to hit his head on the wall again. He grabs the back of Roger’s neck and slams his face into the wall over and over again, all while screaming at the top of his lungs. This time, he doesn’t stop when he sees blood splatter on the uneven brick wall.


	2. Hoping They Break The Mold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [TW- Blood. Violence Mention. Language.]

When Roger’s unconscious, Don releases his neck and lets him fall to the floor. Inhaling heavily, he smears the blood off his face with his t-shirt and runs out of the alley.  


Without meaning to, he finds himself in front of Robin’s large, familiar house. Robin’s neighbors stare at Don, noting the blood covering his shirt and face. _How dare one of those low life scums walk into our neighborhood._ Don looks at one man wearing khakis and a button down with a fleece pullover. He stares right at his nose, unable to look into the man’s eyes after years of conditioning himself not to. The middle-aged man quickly looks away and walks off, as if he didn't notice Don.  


When he rings the doorbell of Robin’s house, he quickly fixes his hair self-consciously, not that it mattered. The blood caked on his face made his hair stick to his forehead.  


Robin’s well-dressed and clean compared to him. He’s got a crisp white t-shirt and blue jeans on. Behind him, a little girl who looks similar to Robin peeks at Don. Her eyes widen when she spots the blood covering his face.  


“Donovan, what—” Robin pauses and looks back at the little girl before telling her to get back to her homework. He steps outside and shuts the door behind him, leaving the girl inside. “What did you do?”  


“I may have gotten into a fight with Roger,” Don replies in a shy, uncertain voice. His hands shake at his side and his breath shortens as he stands in front of Robin. He paces back and forth on the porch, unable to keep still.  


Robin grabs his shaky hands to examine the bloody knuckles; they’re bruised and ripped open. He leads Don inside the house where the girl still stands watching them.  


“Go back to your room, Sara. This doesn’t concern you.” Robin drags Don by his hand past the girl and up the stairs.  


“Who is that?” The girl’s voice is high-pitched, but not at all unpleasant. She follows Robin up the stairs.  


“He’s a friend.”  


“Why is he all bloody?” she inquires, oblivious to Robin’s tone of voice.  


“Sara, just go to your room.” Robin brings Don into the bathroom and shuts the door on Sara again.  


“Is that your sister?” Don smiles despite the blood on his teeth. Robin nods silently and grabs the towel folded neatly on the shelf. He dampens it with water and tosses it to Don.  


“Wipe off the blood.”  


Don does as told, splashing his face with water and wiping off the blood with the white towel. “She looks like you.”  


Robin laughs and grabs the towel from Don. He wipes off the rest of the blood from his face.  


“Did Roger find you?” he asks carefully, focusing on the cut on Don’s cheek.  


“No, I found him.”  


“Why?” Roger sticks a small band-aid on Don’s cheek and cleans up the mess they made.  


“I couldn't leave it alone after what he did. You may not get it, but in this neighborhood you have to stand up for yourself.” Don stands himself, almost matching Robin’s height.  


Robin doesn't talk for a while. He stands next to Don and stares into his eyes, though Don doesn't stare back. “You're right, I don't get it.”  


“People who live here aren't people like you; they're not wealthy, they're not proper, they're not anything. All we have is our pride, so we fight for it with our life.”  


“You don't have to live like them.”  


Don laughs hysterically. “Robin, I am them.”  


“You don’t have to be.”  


Don turns away from the taller boy and stares at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t get it.  


“I’ll get you some fresh clothes.” Robin leaves Don to himself.  


Don sifts through the bathroom cabinet. There’s rubbing alcohol and mouthwash and floss and prescription meds. He laughs at the neat little set up, identical to the rest of the beautiful house.  


“I do, I have to be,” he whispers to himself where Robin can’t hear. People like Robin will never understand. _The good kids. They’ll always be fine, always be good._  


Robin lets Don change alone in the bathroom. He sits on his bed and watches his little sister stand in the doorway.  


“Why is he bleeding?” she whispers so Don won’t hear from the bathroom.  


“He got in trouble, Sara. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.” Robin smiles, a little more at ease now.  


Don appears behind her wearing a crisp t-shirt and shorts. Preppy, like Robin. Sara turns around and slips past Don, shrinking from his overwhelming size. The boy at the door smiles and watches her run to her room. He almost forgets about Robin for a second.  


“I need a smoke,” he declares and pats his pockets, forgetting he changed clothes. He takes his pack out of his clothes and sticks a cigarette between his lips.  


“You have to go outside. My parents will smell it.”  


Don follows Robin out the front door and down the sidewalk. They walk side by side and watch the sun set in the distance. Robin’s bothered by the smoke coming from Don, but he doesn’t tell him.  


“You should throw those jeans away. The blood’s not going to wash off.”  


“You say it like I can just get a new pair whenever I want.” Don smiles with the cigarette hanging between his lips.  


Robin watches the way the smoke wiggles between Don’s lips, almost mesmerized by the movement. He doesn’t respond; he never thought about money as an issue.  


“I’m sorry, I’m being an asshole.”  


“No, I am.” Robin’s quick to correct himself. “I’m disregarding everything about you. I’m ignoring who you are, how you live. I’m assuming everything is fine for everybody, but it’s not always. I never really thought about what life was like without, you know, money. It was never something I have to worry about.”  


Then he gets it. He gets it as they walk down the sidewalk, farther and farther away from his big, perfect house. He gets it as the current blows against him, begging him to give in. He gets it as the smaller boy’s hand grazes his.  


Don watches him begin to understand. He notices the way Robin’s eyes grow a little darker and the way his frame tenses a little more. And he asks himself if it was wrong to make him understand, to force him to live in Don’s shoes, because Robin’s a good kid.  


——  


“I heard Roger’s in the hospital. You really fucked him up.” Nadine lies on the floor with her head on her girlfriend’s lap. The group sits in a circle against the brick back of the school, just a couple meters from the back school gates.  


“Fuck, Don. That’s great. Put that bastard where he belongs.” Joey exclaims and hold his hand up to Don.  


Don slaps the other boy’s hand and laughs nervously, unsure if he should be proud or afraid of what’s happened. He thinks back to yesterday and his walk with Robin. Don taught him something that he would’ve never been able to understand before, something he probably still doesn’t completely understand. He wonders where Robin is now. He hadn’t come to school today; he didn’t even talk to Don after that moment of realization.  


“Good for you, but what happens when he comes back for you?” Caroline adds in a pessimistic light.  


“He lost. Even his dumb ass knows there's no redemption in that,” Joey presses with a wide smile.  


A woman with black hair tied up in a tight bun comes out of the school building and looks straight at the group of kids. “Donovan Guerrero, please follow me.” She gestures for him and abruptly turns back into the building.  


Don has to lightly jog to keep up with the woman. Her body is rigid and straight as she passes down the school halls. She leads him to the principal’s office and leaves.  


He finds the principle sitting silently with two other people across from her, a white man and woman. The couple sit close together and stare coldly at Don when he enters, as if he’d tear in between them and rip them apart.  


“Mrs. Young?” Don asks, turning his attention to the principal.  


“Donovan, have a seat.”  


Don does as told.  


“Is there a problem, something I should be worried about?” he asks cautiously.  


“That depends on where you stand. Did you hear about Roger Adams being attacked yesterday?” Mrs. Young asks, watching him carefully. The middle-aged couple, who Don realizes must be Roger’s parents, stare at him intently.  


“The whole school’s heard about it. Is it bad?” he replies, wondering what’ll happen next. He’ll be arrested, expelled, thrown in jail.  


“Bad enough to be hospitalized,” the man spits out. He’s got a scowl on his face now, as if silently threatening Don.  


“You think I did that to him?” he asks skeptically.  


“Your face and knuckles are bruised. Do you expect us to believe it was just a coincidence?” the man replies. The principal gives him a stern look, but doesn’t intervene.  


“Are you accusing me of something?” Don’s voice rises with his anger.  


“Donovan, we’re not accusing you of anything,” Mrs. Young clarifies. “We were told you and Roger made a scene before school yesterday, and then he’s hospitalized right after school. We just want to know if you knew anything about this.”  


“Did Roger not tell you who did this to him?”  


“No, he doesn’t want to tell us,” Roger’s mother cuts in.  


“Why?”  


“You think we know why? We wouldn’t be here if we knew.” Mr. Adams looks as if he’s about to jump Don at any second.  


“Do you think I can see him?”  


The older man clenches his fist and almost laughs in Don’s face. He wonders why Don would want to see Roger if he attacked him. He turns the thought over in his mind before saying, “When?”  


——  


Don closes the door behind him with the approval of the boy in the hospital bed. Upon closer inspection, Don can see large stitches following along Roger’s hairline. His hair had been completely shaved off by the doctor to perform the surgery. One of Roger’s eye is swollen shut, and Don doesn’t even want to guess what’s underneath the hospital bed sheets.  


He comes up and sits on the chair next to the hospital bed. Roger chuckles lightly when he gets a good look at Don’s face. “I did pretty well for myself, you think?”  


“Hell yeah, my fucking balls are still ringing from the impact.” The two boys laugh about it. Not politely, but genuinely.  


“You didn’t give me up,” Don notes and lights a cigarette. He spots the ‘no smoking’ sign on the wall next to the bed and blows smoke at it.  


“I’m not stupid. We’re even now.”  


Don leans over Roger and counts the stitches on his forehead. 26. “We’re even,” he repeats and holds out his hand.  


Roger firmly shakes it with a hint of a smile. He’s not afraid anymore.  


——  


Don waits in front of the photography museum for Robin to arrive. They had to take a rain check the last time they met here, so Don offered to take him now that the whole incident with Roger was over. He waited at the same corner he stood at before, but this time there were no moans coming from behind the building.  


The boy wondered what the reason for all of this was. Why did Don see Roger and Patrick together? Why did he go after Roger? And why did Roger forgive him? What was the purpose of it all?  


He stands there for another five minutes before Roger arrives with another one of his crisp, clean shirts. He gives a soft smile and Don returns with his own. Don had forgotten all about Roger once he saw Robin coming from across the street. He stuffs his hand in his jean pockets and tries to stifle a smile the moment he spots him.  


“How’s your face?” Robin asks, examining Don’s cut.  


“I'll pull through. C’mon, let's go inside.”  


The two boys stop in front of a photo every couple of minutes and takes in the color. Don stuffs his hands in his jean pockets, trying to think of something to say to Robin. The taller boy stands beside him, seeming calmer than Don. He stares at a photo of a dark road, lighted only by the fading sunlight.  


Don faces the photo as well, but stares at Robin out of the corner of his eye. “It’s nice,” he says to break the silence.  


“You’re not even looking at it.” Robin laughs and looks at Don, who quickly looks away. His gaze shifts over the empty room before focusing back on Don.  


“Sure I am. Look, there’s a road, and a little boy right there.” Don points at the photo, trying to defend himself but laughs in defeat.  


He feels uncomfortable as Robin looks into his eyes. Instead of looking back at him, he moves onto the next photo, and Robin follows. Robin reaches forward to grab Don’s hand, making him flinch. Don looks at him alarmed, but relaxes when Robin eases his hand into his. Robin gives a soft, almost bittersweet smile. _I’m not going to hurt you._ He doesn’t say anything and continues to stare mindlessly at the picture while holding Robin’s hand.  


“What are you thinking?” Robin asks in a soft voice. He can tell Don’s got something on his mind, though he won’t admit it.  


“You didn’t come to school yesterday,” Don states.  


When Robin doesn’t answer he continues, “Was it because of what happened the day before? What you said, or didn’t say?”  


“I don’t know, maybe,” Robin admits. “When you left that day, I kept on thinking about my experiences and your experiences and everyone else’s experiences. I never thought about it before; it never mattered before.”  


“But it matters now?”  


“Of course it does. I didn’t understand it before—why you’re still here even if you hate it, why you had to fight Roger, why you can’t even look me in the eye right now. I didn’t get it.”  


“And you get it now?” Don’s hand tightens around Robin’s.  


“A little more.” Robin smiles and Don returns with his own. He slowly shifts his gaze to meet Robin’s, scared for the first time in his life, but looks away immediately afterward.  


Then, Don leans forward and kisses Robin. He has to raise his head a little to meet Robin’s soft lips. The taller boy leans down as well to match Don’s height. The kiss is hard and rough, and Robin can’t help but smile.  


The boys continue to walk through the photography maze, hand in hand. After circling through the small building several times, they decide to leave. Robin drives Don back to his house.  


Don watches him as he drives, thinking about when he first met him. Just a couple days ago he was too afraid to meet kids like Robin, and here he is now.  


“What?” Robin laughs nervously.  


Don quickly turns away to cover up his stare. “Nothing. I was just thinking about you and me being in the same car.”  


Robin smiles at him in confusion. “What about it?”  


“I never thought I’d be able to talk to someone like you in the way that I am now. You know, freely and openly with no social barrier between us. But here I am, and there you are. It’s proof that this is real and possible.” Don looks at Robin, who stares back at him, trying to understand what Don’s saying.  


“You mean us being together?” Robin parks the car in front of Don’s house.  


“Yes, not in the romantic sense, but platonically. I mean, practically everyone else in this neighborhood—they see everything in black and white. Things go one way and not another. There’s ‘your kind’ and ‘my kind.’ But then there’s you and me; there’s our backgrounds and our experiences, and none of those things matter. This,” Don motions between the two of them, “makes everything disappear. It makes all those differences irrelevant.”  


Robin doesn’t say anything, instead he smiles sincerely, the simplest form of letting Don know he understands. And he truly does; he knows that whatever he’s feeling toward Don is more important than anything people may say. Don smiles back, the two of them coming to a silent agreement on the topic.  


“I’ll see you tomorrow, Donovan.”


End file.
